Little Angel
by Veritas Found
Summary: He felt richer than ever, especially when looking at the sunshine curls of his granddaughter.


**Title:** "Little Angel"

**Author:** Veritas Found

**Rating:** K Plus / PG / All Ages

**Characters/Pairings:** Jordan Wethersby, Eli Stone, Misc. Characters

**Summary:** He felt richer than ever, especially when looking at the sunshine curls of his granddaughter.

**Disclaimer:** _Eli Stone_ and all respective properties are © ABC. Megan D. (Veritas Found) does not, has never, nor will ever own _Eli Stone_.

**Author's Note/Warnings:** Written for Prompt #15 in the November Picture Prompts over at Eli Stone Fic. Canon-compliant until 02x05. Possible TBW.

"_**Little Angel"**_

Looking back on the past five years of his life, Jordan Wethersby could hardly believe how far he'd come. He'd left his lifelong work to start a new, better firm with his protégé – one that was thriving – and hadn't spoken to his old partners in about as long. His daughter had had a beautiful baby girl, and the old office kiss-up had turned into a surprising son-in-law and excellent father. His family was stronger (and larger, when the extended Stones were included) than ever, and he…well, he had turned a complete one-eighty. He had gone from hardened lawyer to family-man humanitarian, and while his paycheck might have taken a slight cut he felt richer than ever.

Especially, he couldn't help but muse, when looking at the sunshine curls of his granddaughter.

She raced ahead of him a bit, chasing a squirrel around the park grass. She squealed and shrieked, the perfect image of youthful abandon. Her red jumper twirled about her legs as she turned, her mother's smile splitting her face and father's eyes twinkling when she caught sight of him. She ran towards him, calling out as she drew closer. She grabbed his hand and tugged, giggling as she leaned back the way she had come, back towards the squirrels. He laughed and squeezed her hand, allowing her to lead them away.

Five years ago, he never would have believed he'd be spending an entire Saturday at the park with his three-year-old granddaughter. Five years ago, he probably wouldn't have wanted to. Five years didn't seem like long, but they had meant the world to him.

Maybe it was Eli's fault – maybe all he needed to open his eyes were the antics of a sometimes-crazy lawyer who sometimes received visions from God. Maybe it was just a natural process, the proverbial awakening one had when entering the twilight of life. Maybe he had just grown tired of how things were. Maybe it was a little bit of everything.

"Granpa – up!" he looked down at the little voice, smiling at his granddaughter, who was reaching up for him at his knees. He scooped her up in his arms, placing her on his shoulders. Her giggles and squeals rang through his ears, and it was the best sound he'd ever heard. "Can we see Daddy soon?"

"Soon," he said, knowing they still had a good half-hour before Taylor and Matt returned from the shelter with her new puppy. The little girl had no idea of the surprise that would be awaiting her, but he could already see the mega-watt smile that would light her face at the sight.

"Can we swing, then?" she asked, looking to the small park not too far away. He smiled and nodded, squeezing her hand as he led her under the sun-flamed autumn leaves to the swing set.

"A swing sounds like an excellent idea – let's go," he said, and as they walked he realized he was the happiest he'd ever been, with the world, his job, and – most importantly – his self.

He was happy.

– V –

Eli pushed out a breath as he slouched forward in the stiff hospital chair. He buried his face in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. Outside the room he could hear voices, Ellen and Matt speaking with the doctor in charge of…he couldn't hear Taylor. He hoped Matt had finally convinced her to sit and try to calm down – the stress wasn't good for the baby. Hopefully he'd take her home soon, but Taylor had always been the stubborn sort. She probably wouldn't leave her father until she had passed out from exhaustion, and only then when Matt forcibly carried her away.

He was still having trouble processing everything, honestly. Three hours ago, he had been shoulder-deep in depos for their current case. One phone call later he was meeting Ellen and Taylor at St. Vincent's. Jordan was in surgery, and Matt – who had been the one to call him while the women dealt with the doctors – was in the process of telling Martin Posner to jump off a cliff. Matt had arrived shortly before Jordan had come out of surgery, still unconscious and with an either-way diagnosis.

He had been on his way home after a long night, and what should have been a twenty-minute cab ride had…another car had hit them, the driver a twenty-two-year-old drunk. The cabbie hadn't been so lucky, and Jordan was fighting for his life. And they were waiting, refusing to believe the possible truth because Jordan was too strong for that. Jordan would pull through – he had to. He had a family just outside, a firm a few streets away, and he…

"Jordan, you have to listen to me," he said, looking over his folded hands to the scratched face. "You didn't give up on me, and I'm not giving up on you. You have to pull through this, Jordan. Too many people here still need you. Please, pull through this."

He looked towards the window, where an early-morning San Francisco looked back at him. A giggle turned his head back, and his eyes widened to see a little girl with Taylor's golden curls smiling at Jordan. Next to her, hand clasped in her own, stood the Fiduciary, giving him a knowing smile. He gaped at the little girl as she leaned over to give Jordan a kiss, and when the Fiduciary winked at him before vanishing with the girl, he smiled.

He just had to have faith that Jordan would be all right, and he did. Jordan would be fine.


End file.
